


A Horrific Choice [Springtrap X Night Guard Reader]

by Wanderlust_Novadust



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Blood, Cannibalism, Child Death, Five Nights at Freddy's 3, Gay, Gore, I mean it's FNAF but I figure a warning is good, M/M, Manipulation, NSFW, Probably going to get erotic my mans, Really HALF ASSED manipulation, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Sporadic Updates, Vomit, but the vomiting isn't sexual don't worry, fnaf - Freeform, horror romance, like a lot so don't say I didn't warn you, like there's bodies man, preemptive tag updates before chapter releases, though it does happen so if that's a sensitive thing for you caution, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderlust_Novadust/pseuds/Wanderlust_Novadust
Summary: You, a desperate early twenties man in the 90's, decided to work at the new horror attraction based on the old pizzeria where all those kids died. It could've been an easy job if not for what was waiting in the establishment, and how you two would interact.





	1. Night 1

This was a job you did not want to do. This was a job, working barely minimum wage (was that even minimum wage?) as a night guard in a creepy horror attraction. The vents hardly worked, there were scratches along the walls of said vents (too big to be a raccoon’s claws…), and the uniform you were given still had sweat on it from the last poor sucker who probably worked this job.

If someone was fucked, it was you.

Not that this mattered much, though. It was a paying job. So, you got there your first night not expecting much else than to sit bored and watch some cameras. Maybe kick the vent a few times. It was a whole five minutes of sitting there before you got a call. It was startling, to say the least. Not that you’d admit it, but being in this creepy attraction at just after midnight did put one on edge rather easily. 

“Hey hey, new employee!”

You would’ve responded if it weren’t for the fact that the voice of what you could only assume was an eighteen to nineteen year old who smoked weed on the down-low didn’t continue on.

“Little recorded message for you. Set it up to like… Ring you or some shit. You’ll know what I mean when you hear this!”

There it was. Just some recorded message. You were just flipping through cameras, anxiety dropping from the suddenness of the ‘call’…

“Welcome to the Freddy Fazbear’s horror attraction staff, dude! We’ve got a lot of awesome stuff here, but like… Don’t go touching any of it, hah!”

This strange stoner teen seemed to ramble on for a while about the relics. It wasn’t hard to see them either, most of them actually right near your office… He mentioned the faces (incomplete heads in some cases) of animatronics, and it didn’t take long for your eyes to fall onto the cardboard box housing them. He mentioned the control for an old ‘marionette’ styled one, and it didn’t take more than just a few clicks around the camera for you to locate the faux wooden control up against a wall in a hallway. It wasn’t until the last thing he described that anything truly interesting caught your eye.

There, still looking over the control as he began to stutter his way into the next cool ‘relic’ they had gotten, was a more fully formed animatronic. Don’t be fooled, it was frayed and decaying to hell and back, but it had all it’s limbs and seemingly could move. After all, it was when your camera did that annoying little static glitch you were only just getting use to that the thing appeared within your vision.  
“Something else we’ve had for a bit is this old springlock suit! A Spring Bonnie, as we call it! Sometimes it moves around, probably some left over circuits and shit coming to life. I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s some scary shit, man!”

The incompetent excitement of the recording was the last of your concerns for the moment. It moves? The very first thing you thought of was:

“What if it gets into my office?”

Sadly, this concern wasn’t even addressed. He left with a rather typical ‘sah dude’ kind of ‘outro’ to his call just after describing the decaying Springlock suit that you could’ve sworn just twitched as the ‘click’ of the recording ending sounded. The dial tone soon started, dull beeps fading in and out as you lazily reached to where ever the damn phone was set. It was a little feeling around before you managed to grab it, but you couldn’t tell where the actual hook was. God fucking…

“Fuck it.”

Forgoing the anxiety of a walking, possibly talking, certainly rotting Spring Suit waltzing right into your office was hard, but you looked away from the cameras and set the phone back on the hook. It was then you looked back, the cameras coming back to life and a hallway fading in and… Oh dear.

The old faux wood control was snapped in a couple of places, now just a heap of plastic on the ground and about as broken looking as all the other relics in the place. Oh no.

There weren’t a lot of options for how it happened, which was the first thought you had. That guy on the phone only really mentioned one functional animatronic, and you’re rather certain that with his excitement and attention to detail, he would’ve mentioned it if there was more than one functional heap of metal walking around. A few things were easily gathered from that, and as much as you could hope it was a break in of some kind, there was hardly a sound. Not a peep. Checking around the cameras also told you there was not a damn door broken and not a single window opened or smashed.

The options had dwindled. The animatronic probably did it. This was getting worse by the second. Now the camera clicking was far more frantic, until you realized you couldn’t spot it.

You didn’t take time to consider the many options for why the animatronic would’ve done it, because now you were far more distracted by that bump you just heard. Was that… From the vent? It didn’t sound close, that’s for sure.  
It took a moment, but you found a way to close off the vent system. Good, golden, perfect, you closed it immediately. Then, yet another thing to panic over, it hit you that the air was getting exceptionally thick and warm. It was rather hard to breathe, and now you had to wonder if this job was a good idea. There was a hard… ‘Thonk’ sound. ‘Thonk’ was the only way you could describe it; the sound of someone’s head hitting metal. You leaned over some in your chair as you got the vent system open and reset some settings and… Huh. Nothing there now, anyway. The air was thinning out some too, and the cold air got going. Surely, you wouldn’t suffocate today. An achievement in these moments of panic, indeed.

You had almost forgotten about the possibly violent robot until you turned on the cameras and noticed a shadow close to a wall. Well, at least you knew where it was. God, what time was it? It was just a glance down to your wrist watch before you realized it was four in the morning. Oh, thank god, you only had another two hours. Shift ended soon… Well, sort of soon. Then you looked at the cameras again and the shadow was gone. The shadow that you were hoping to keep track of was gone. Wonderful.

It was another few clicks and then you found the thing. It was approaching your office from what you could tell. Oh no. It was the hundredth time you’d run to your camera options and of course, there was something you’d overlooked in the overall panic of what had been this entire night. An audio lure of sorts? You set it up, and it played (from the small snippet of a “hi” you heard) what seemed to be a child’s voice. Rather cheerful sounding, which only made it creepier that a little following with the cameras told you it actually fucking worked. ‘Spring Bonnie’ actually followed the audio lure.

These moments of relief were when you looked away from the cameras to reset the vents again. It was getting thick in there again, so it was probably a good idea to avoid suffocating, you thought. You checked your watch only to find it was 5:55. Only five more minutes. You were so close…

And then you looked up to see the Spring Bonnie right outside your office window.

It was about time you finally got a good look at it, but the sarcastic thought was rather fleeting. It looked… Decayed in multiple ways. You guessed at one point it was a bright, golden yellow; now this Spring Bonnie was just a muddy and dying yellow-brown. The thing was missing that outer layer of nice looking fabric in several places, and some parts were completely ripped off—seemingly violently from the look of the jagged tears. The damn thing was completely missing it’s right ear! You seemingly made eye contact with it, and that’s when the robotic rabbit began to actually look off. 

No, it didn’t look normal before. It was a decaying, seven something robot that probably needed at least a wash. The eyes were the issue, however. They looked a little too human. Were the eyes rotting…? It wasn’t the same rot as everything else. It wasn’t mildew and torn fabric. Other little details began to come to you as you realized—were those maggots crawling around? What was that smell…?

Before either you or the robot behind the glass could really do much else than stare at each other (for an entire five minutes) your watch rang. The lights came on. You could hear the front door, and it was probably your manager. As the place lit up, some feeling of ease forced itself onto you. You had barely stood from your chair (not taking your eyes off the probable death trap on the other side of the glass) when your manager had stepped by the office doorway. 

“Morning, employee!”

You looked over at your manager, several questions popping up all at once. Before you could actually get one out your mouth though, he looked over at the Spring Bonnie and sighed.

“God, it moved around some again, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure did. Scared the hell out of me.”

You tried not to sound too vulgar or angry; you needed this job. It was a job that no one wanted, but it paid something, and something was what you needed.

“Oh, the day guard didn’t warn you in his recordings, did he?”

“He might’ve? I could’ve missed it.”

“I understand, I understand… I suppose you know now.”

It was hardly consolation, but form his tone, this was a frequent occurrence. You couldn’t blame him much for how tired he sounded either, it being about six in the morning. You did have one question as he turned to leave though…

“Hey, sir?”

“Yes, employee?”

“Is this thing violent at all?”

There was a pause. Far too long of a pause for comfort. If it weren’t for the main vent system coming to life, the chirping of birds, and the hum of the ceiling lights, it could’ve been a perfect silence. 

“No, employee. It isn’t violent.”

You just nodded. There was no point in arguing with how stern his words sounded. Though, that tone didn’t ease your fears any more than the cutting quiet had. You got up, walking over to the doorway as your manager walked away.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, employee.”

“You too, sir.”

You left, knowing you had to come back, but dreading the next night you had to spend at Freddy’s. The most you could think to do was bring a weapon, but what if your manager saw that? It was worth a shot, at least. You’d come back tomorrow, prepared just in case.


	2. Night 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter with the haunted spring suit left you with a few things. Thankfully, the main thing was your life. The other things, however, were more questions and confusion.

Second night, your first Tuesday on the job, you could do this! You went through with the idea of bringing a weapon, but it took some deciding. You ended up bringing a bat with you, metal and unused until now. You would hide it under the camera controls or the desk… It was hard to plan without everything in front of you.

You got there, right on time, and stood the bat up against the desk while you checked everything out. Your dinky nighttime vent set up had started up, and the summer heat was cooling rather nicely. You knew where all the essentials were this time. The audio lure, the cameras themselves, the vent system that may have just saved your life last time… First things first, where the hell was Spring Bonnie? It was a few camera switches before you spotted him, a ways away from your office. That’s when the phone rang.

“Hey there, newbie.”

The day guard seemed far less enthusiastic to be recording for you. You set the phone down, the thing being louder than most speakers, listening while you made 100% sure that the rabbit was still in the same place. It was still in that camera, but now it had moved more toward the wall and shadows… Clever.

“No new relics yet, and one of them seems vandalized? I noticed it on my way in. The control I mentioned before was torn to shit!”

He went on a while about the fact that these things are quite hard to come by and how customers should really respect the establishment and such. If he were there to hear you, you may not have had the heart to tell him that it wasn’t a customer who destroyed the puppet control. He stopped just after that, wishing you an easy night watching the place. The click and dull tone came back as the cameras covered in static.

“What the hell?”

You’d noticed it the night before, but it was only when you switched cameras, usually. There may have been a couple of times where it covered the screen and you weren’t changing views? Were these cameras really that janky? You would just have to work around that, you supposed. It was a paranoid shift of the eyes up to the office window that told you the animatronic rabbit wasn’t right outside your office, at least. A good two clicks told you, however, that he was approaching. No sweat… Yesterday you’d learned that the audio lure did the trick just fine. A young boy’s “hello” played out, echoing through rooms and down halls until you heard it too.

Assuming your lure had worked as planned, you reset the vent system. You were getting better at that, thankfully. Oxygen deprivation and heat strokes weren’t on the schedule for tonight! You leaned back, a snicker of confidence as you mindlessly set the audio lure off.

“Hi!”

If that rotting bunny was so easily fooled by the recording of a child’s voice greeting it, who were you to worry about it? If it wandered in, you had a bat at least. You decided to check out the vent system just in case, and sure enough there was nothing in the vents! You reset the system just after, lax and smirking at the dark screen; all you had to do was wait this night out and every now and then turn on the controls to reset the vents and play the lure!

It was a few minutes later, just after you flicked up the controls and reset the vent, that you heard something. Something heavy, approaching. No issue, you still had the controls up. You hit the lure a little further back in the hallway, hearing that shit-eating laugh they decided to include in the recordings.

What you had gathered was walking was still a decent ways away, but it wasn’t going the other direction. It wasn’t following the lure… By the time you got the controls down and the bat in your hand, the damn animatronic had seemed to teleport! In a flash, it was outside your office window. It was a quick glance to your watch before looking right back at the rotted sack of metal parts. It was barely past 1:05, let alone close to letting you leave your shift. You had the bat though, loosely held for now in one hand.

You didn’t know what to do. Maybe if you watched it long enough, it would just go away? You locked eyes with it before and you two managed to stare at each other for a good five minutes. Though, it was possible you were personifying a crude AI a little too much. Yeah, it stuck to the walls and shadows while approaching and realized the audio lure was false but… Actually, why was it trying to get to your office?

It was almost five minutes of mulling this all over with various faces of bewilderment before the thing actually twitched. Finally, in front of you and not just on a computer screen. It hit five minutes of staring as the air got heavy and hot, the vent system screaming out with sharp beeps to be reset. Would you risk it? If you didn’t, you’d probably just suffocate. Though, if you took your eyes off this thing and it turned out violent…

You quickly pulled up your controls, hitting the vent reset before looking back at the office window. Where had the Spring Bonnie gone…? You held the bat in two hands now, stepping quietly over to the doorway and looking out, ready to strike the damn rabbit the moment you saw it. That’s when you heard the creaking behind you, rusting metal and something else that made a soft smush sound among the obvious signs of robotic danger. You turned quick on your heel, nearly face to face with the damn thing!

It hadn’t seemed to expect you to turn around at least, that second long window being when you swung the bat into the Spring Bonnie’s head! The sound was mostly the kind of thwack and ringing you’d expect from iron or steel, but there was a squish among it. How Spring Bonnie reacted was what was far more immediately concerning. It didn’t fall away and deactivate, it didn’t even glitch.

The decaying springlock suit hit the ground, holding it’s head and grunting in a voice far too human for your own comfort. The moments of horror gave him time to recover just a bit and cuss at the pain in a hoarse voice, coated in head trauma and deep in pitch…

A very human voice, and a voice that could easily belong to an adult man.

“Shit… You little--”

You allowed the questionably animatronic rabbit no time to finish the spiteful statement, slamming your bat another time into it’s head. It didn’t make the kind of sound you hoped. There was no voice trailing into a deeper sound before cutting out, there was no blue screen of death sound, there couldn’t have even been a funny dial up sound to lighten the mood and erase the fear. Spring Bonnie went entirely silent.

You waited a good few minutes, but the thing was still as roadkill on the highway. You had to get rid of it, that’s for sure. Any actual damage done hopefully wouldn’t get traced to you, but you had to at least get it out of your damn office before you could really worry about that! You set the bat aside, figuring from the rabbit’s size alone you’d need two free arms to lift or drag it. You tried to lift it by an arm first, and although you could get the arm off the ground, it was useless to try and lift the whole body. A few other methods, but you couldn’t get the damn thing off the ground…

Spring Bonnie was a heavy fucker, but you could at least drag him. It was rough, but you just grabbed it by the arm again and dragged it out the office doorway… What time is it? A glance to your watch told you it was barely 1:30. You had to hope this thing wouldn’t wake up. You managed to drag it as far away from your office as you could before booking it back to your office. You rushed in, slammed your ass into your office chair, reset the vents, and then looked at the cameras. It was still there, at least.

It wasn’t even five minutes before the damn thing moved while on camera. Weirdly, it seemed groggy. At this point, in a far less frenzied state, it was easy to say you were not dealing with a normal, crude AI made for a children’s pizzeria. What it was exactly, you weren’t entirely sure, but it wasn’t a robot. There were a lot of murders in Freddy’s, but weren’t most of those kids? That thing didn’t sound like a kid. It cussed, it’s voice was deep, and it was a little too smart to be a child. You couldn’t recall any news about an adult going missing or getting axed around Freddy’s, however.

You had the thought of trying to ask, but even if whatever made it’s way into it’s office wasn’t out to harm you at first, you did just knock it out with a bat and drag it out of your office. There probably wasn’t much of a chance for friendly conversation. There would be no “hi, what’s your name,” or “are you dead,” in the near future.

You gave the vents a preemptive reset before noticing the possibly haunted animatronic actually standing up now. Seeing it actually move had been pretty hard so far, so this was almost nice! It certainly moved like it was in pain. Every movement was stiff and looked rather deliberate. It even shook on some occasions, shuddering like maybe it just tried to breathe. You couldn’t have known for sure, the audio on these cameras was barely anything but static when you weren’t using an audio lure.

It still held it’s head, right where you hit it. There wasn’t blood coming out or anything, which was a relief, but it did lean on the wall a moment. You hadn’t thought you’d hit it’s head that hard, but it appears you would be wrong. You set down the camera controls, looking around your office for a bit now. Whatever was in Spring Bonnie, it seemed like it was out of commission for now. You walked around, trying to figure out where the hell it had hid before, coming across a particularly dark corner. Could’ve sworn at this point, this company was out to kill you.

“I mean, think about it,” you muttered to no one in particular as you sat back in your swivel chair.

“They leave me for a whole six hours here, working for barely minimum wage, nothing to defend myself...”

You pulled up the controls and watched the struggling rabbit for a moment as you continued to ramble to yourself.

“Sure, I can close my vents and use a recorded voice to distract it, but it figured out my recording trick pretty quick. The vents being closed too long could get me killed, anyway.”

You flicked back to the camera the puppet control’s section of hallway. It was still there, though rearranged to be scattered across the floor. The only rationale you had for this choice was that it was somehow supposed to be scary. It sure scared you, at least.

“And, look at this shit… That fucker snapped this thing into at least five pieces without any trouble! I don’t even have a door I can close. Aren’t I a night guard? Where’s my taser or baton!”

You looked back at the screen the suit was in before, but you couldn’t find it. You leaned in close, trying to see if it might be hiding? No, nothing. Leaning back into your chair, you pulled up the vent system. Ah, there it is. Crawling in the vents. You quickly hit the vent reset before closing them off. It wasn’t long before you heard that same ‘thonk’ as before, though now with the added bonus of a terrifying voice cussing quietly. You leaned over some in your chair, staring down the vent for a bit before hitting the release.

More claw marks. It was definitely the suit doing that. You checked the cameras, and the suit was a decent ways away… Then again, it seemed to be pretty quick at times. You decided to risk it, figuring you’d hear it if it got close. Grabbing the metal bat, you walked over to the large vent opening and crouched down to look into it. Moving the bat into the opposite hand, you moved your open hand’s fingers gently over the claw marks. Jagged as that rabbit’s ripped metal, and rather telling of what that thing could do to you if you weren’t quick and careful.

You stood back up, not hearing the heavy steps again at least. You sat back in your chair, and the night was seeming to mellow out some. It got perhaps a little too close for comfort, and you decided to try the audio lure again. Maybe a blow to the head erased some of it’s memory. You watched it’s camera while the child’s voice rang across the halls, a cheerful ‘hi’ to contrast your fear for your life. You would’ve felt some comfort in it’s movements halting if it didn’t turn to look right into the camera. You don’t know why, but a chill ran down your spine as it seemed to make ‘eye contact’ before walking toward the audio lure.

5:00 AM. This repeated itself. You’d use the audio lure, and it would acknowledge your tricks. It went from minute long stares of faux eye contact to simple glances as the night progressed, but now you couldn’t locate the thing to begin with. You really didn’t want another encounter with it, especially not tonight. You were tired. It had been a long, terrific night. You were about to close the vents when you heard the clawing. You slammed the button, head snapping the direction of the vent opening only to see it there.

“What the hell,” you screamed, picking up the bat and half stumbling, half leaping out of your chair.

About six different ideas of what to do hit you all at once, but it didn’t approach. You flinched and held the bat a bit more firmly in both hands as the animatronic laughed. Strained, yet somehow, the sack of metal sounded entertained. It wasn’t a soft chuckle, either, it was a loud, roaring laugh. Just after, it hesitated and devolved into chest rattling coughs.

You were about to rush it, but it managed to catch the bat. There was some give, but then you heard the bat bend a bit inside of it’s hand. Before the full horror of it catching and crushing your bat could hit you, you finally got glimpse of what you couldn’t see from your office window. Maggots, rotting flesh that filled the suit, and it’s eyes? It looked right at you, and it was as a gnat flew right out from behind one…

“You’ve got a lot of fight to you.”

You really didn’t know how to feel about the fact this thing was taking the time to talk to you. Before you could decide between a flood of feelings at least knee high, the animatronic had ripped the bat from your hands, standing up to it’s full height. It still seemed to take effort, but it wasn’t as labored anymore. You’re only guess was whoever was rotting in there had gotten some strength back since you knocked them over the head.

“I like that.”

It snapped the bat. The halves fell to the ground with light sounds, far from a distraction from the thing standing in front of you. It chuckled a bit as you backed away quick, tripping over your own two feet and falling flat on your ass. Easily, it could’ve killed you, right there. But, instead, it walked past you to the doorway.

“The lights are coming on soon, aren’t they?”

It seemed to wait for a response, so you glanced at your watch. It was almost the end of your shift, so… He was right.

“Yeah, it is.”

It nodded in understanding, your stomach twisting at the lack of a response. Before the situation could go anywhere, your watch began beeping. The lights came on. Like clockwork, your manager walked through the front doors and to your office.

“Morning, employee!”

He walked away without even acknowledging that the Spinglock suit was in your office, or that there was a broken metal bat on the ground. You didn’t have the emotional energy to point anything out. Grateful he hadn’t said anything, you simply picked up the broken pieces of your bat and left for home.

You needed a nap.


	3. Night 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, actual interaction. How well it goes though is up to interpretation...

Wednesday was starting off no better. You got into work a good five minutes early, hoping to beat the day shift guard to leaving and get some information out of him. Sadly, when you got in, you learned that during the day your office (and the “exhibit” by proxy) were blocked off. The day guard had apparently called in sick with some kind of stomach bug. Without any way to ask probably the most knowledgeable guy (that you had any contact with) in the building about the Springlock suit, you just waited for the doors to close and your shift to start.

Creepy was the best was to describe the silence as 12:00 AM began to slowly roll it’s way by. A flick of the camera screens said that the Springlock suit was just sitting in a part of the hall. It was hardly even doing anything. Seeing as you seemed to have time before the thing got moving, you traced out your plan for the night.

Firstly, you tried to see if the day guard had left his number anywhere. Any notes from him you could’ve missed, an employee phone book forgotten in the office, or even if he’d recorded his previous two messages from a call and you could get the number that way. Pacing, scrounging, you turned the whole office over, but no to all three. That meant feeling out a plan for how to defend yourself. Sitting back down in your chair, you checked the cameras again. The suit had indeed moved, but only to the center of that portion of hallway caught in your camera, looking at ‘you’ through the camera. Freaky as that was, you didn’t have a stash of large, blunt objects at home to bring into the office. You hadn’t brought anything ridiculous either, like a kitchen knife. There was no way in hell the dull cooking knives from your kitchen would be any help against this thing.

You could close the vents, but keeping them closed? That wasn’t an option. As the vents crossed your mind, you hit the reset for them and got out of your chair. There hardly ever seemed to be break ins, and that’s what they hired you to watch for, right? Sure, they were unexpected, and it’s not like a place needs to be broken into frequently for them to want to take precautions—but maybe you could leave your office and hide? It was only a glance from where you stood to notice the vent was more torn up than before. There were new things on that opening now too… At least, you thought they were new. It may have been dark in the office, but you were sure.

A few steps, and then you crouched for the millionth time at that godforsaken vent. Something had dried up on it… It was maybe a brown color? Getting a little closer—you reeled back with the realization as to what it was coating the vent. It got denser, more splatters as you looked in. You moved away from the vent, not wanting to look any longer at the terrific display.

You were ripped from your thoughts by a sound coming from deeper in the hallway, coming for your office. You made a mad dash for your chair, throwing yourself into it and yanking up the camera. The springlock suit hadn’t moved, not an inch. What was coming? Frantic flicking through the cameras told you absolutely nothing, and once you realized you had seen them all: it became five times more confusing. You closed the vents just in case, heart pounding like a war drum in your throat, breath almost spilling out of you as you tried to figure out what the hell was making that sound!

Then all but your heart went quiet. The light hum of the vents, your shaking body, and a figure down the hall. You squinted after a moment, as it was dark and hard to make out… It appeared to be another animatronic, but what exactly was hard to tell. Had they gotten a new one and just not said anything? Perhaps the day guard would’ve brought it up had he been in to see. All you did was blink before the thing had moved, causing you to flinch in your seat.

It was far more discernible. It looked like the old Foxy animatronic, though it was more decayed than even that haunted Springlock suit. Missing limbs, eyes, discolored to the point of being green as the mold you were certain was growing on it. You tried to watch as long as possible, afraid even blinking again would mean it would move. Though, you couldn’t keep your eyes open forever. You blinked, and the moment your eyes had opened it was in front of you. It lunged right for you, and you put your arms up to defend yourself—you screamed, and…

Found yourself unhurt.

Lowering your arms, you found it was gone. Not a sign of the fox was anywhere to be found, though the vents were crying out for a reset. The air had gotten rather thick, now that you think about it. With shaking hands, you hit the reset button and heard the fans spring to life. It didn’t take long for the room to chill, thankfully… It was with a slow look to the window of your office, however, that you found yourself having your second panic attack of the evening. Your body hadn’t even prepared before your heart rose into your throat and your stomach hit the floor all over again. The springlock suit was there, standing and staring back at you.

It was hard to see much of an ‘expression’ to it’s face, but it’s eyes were wider than normal. After a solid minute of eye contact was when it did move though. It’s eyes fell half closed and rest of it’s body seemed to relax, slumping just a bit in the heavy, metal suit. In a moment of pure flight or fight, you actually spoke to the thing.

“Hey, you! Fuck off! Shoo!”

The suit actually seemed to straighten up a bit, looking at you with fully open eyes before… Bellowing out a baritone laugh. You probably would’ve been more scared if it weren’t for the glass between you and the suit, but you didn’t care as you took full advantage of that ill advised bravery.

“Hey, cut that out! Stop laughing and get out! I have… Uh...”

“What? Missing your bat?”

The fact this haunted as hell animatronic had just called you out was not helping how bad this night had been. At least it wasn’t trying to kill you yet. You took full advantage of this, standing up in a huff with as menacing an expression you could manage. It didn’t seem to work much, as this just got a louder, more breathless laugh with a few coughs thrown in.

Seeing as it was busy, you started to back up and glance around. There had to be something you could use around this office… You noticed the guitar sticking out of the box that seemed mostly intact. It had it’s old color and sheen at least. The rotten rabbit just got done with a coughing fit when you got the guitar out of the box. It was a little surprised that you were already holding it by the neck, or at least you assumed what looked like a flinch meant shock.

“No, seriously, get the fuck out! I already beat you once.”

“Why so defensive?”

You were caught off guard, but that didn’t mean you were without a reaction.  
“You tried to fucking kill me!”

The springlock suit started to walk, and soon just stood in the doorway. You backed up a few quick paces, still ready to smash the guitar into it at any moment.

“I said to-”

“Oh, shut up.”

And you did. You flinched then stiffened up some, trying to at least maintain the look of something dangerous.

“You’ve got spunk, but don’t be a little cunt about it.”

“I? Thank you?”

You weren’t about to question the compliment. Maybe if it liked you there wouldn’t be more blood in that vent. It did move a little closer, you backing away in tandem before hitting a wall. It didn’t approach much further, but it was certainly uncomfortably near.

“You really have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you?”

“I’m guessing not.”

So, was it haunted? That didn’t sound like a kid, or act like one. Hadn’t there only been missing children at Freddy’s? There wasn’t enough time to think up more questions before it started to back up.

“Not going to swing at me again?”

This haunted rabbit was way too amused by you for comfort. While it chuckled to itself, you did exactly that. With a few steps and a whack, the guitar had connected with it’s skull. This managed to knock it off balance, most likely having not expected you to actually go through with swinging at it. While it stumbled and recovered, you noticed the dent that put into the body of your fake guitar… You quickly turned it in your hands, ready to swing again with an unbent side.

“Listen, fucker--”

You didn’t have enough time to react before the guitar was wrenched from your hands and tossed over it’s shoulder. The clank of it hitting the wall was the only sound other than your squeaking gasp before you hit the floor—tripping over your own two feet.

“Now, what did I say before about being a little cunt about this?”

Silence. You didn’t respond.

“For now, I like you, but you give me too much trouble and you won’t be leaving this building through the front door.”

You glanced over to the vent opening before quickly looking back to the giant rabbit in front of you. You understood well enough that you didn’t need to ask for more details. You nodded, and the rabbit seemed to give some sort of huff in response.

“I will admit… You swinging at me like that was a brave move. I like brave. You’re the kind of guy I’d have partnered up with back in the day.”

For sure, you could cross the idea of this being one of the missing kids off the list of possibilities. But then what? Who the hell (if anyone) was inside this godforsaken rabbit suit? There were only a few possibilities you could think of…

“Who knows? Maybe you could even help me now.”

“With what?”

“Something that’ll benefit us both, I assure you.”

While you had no idea what that meant, you weren’t going to be asking too many questions until you were a far safer distance away from the haunted giant towering over you. You had crossed off your whole list, landing on the idea that maybe, just maybe, this was that famous Freddy Fazbear’s killer.

“Why would I help you with something?”

“Well, you’re young and kicking. I’m real sure you don’t want to die.”

You nodded in return, hearing it scoff at your reaction.

“Ah, who knows. If I come up with some new scheme, you’ll be my guy.”

You would ask questions, but you were rather certain that you were the only living and breathing thing this haunted bunny suit knew. You saw it look over to the vents before gruffing and looking at you again.

“Actually, I think there is something you can do for me, partner.”

“My name is--”

“You go around to the back of the building. You know where the dumpster is, right partner? There’s some rubbish nobody would dare touch sitting inside of it. I’m real sure you’ll know what to do with it.”

You glanced at the vent before nodding, scurrying off out of the office and through the back door. This was at least an excuse to collect yourself while you tried to figure out what that garbage was. Then… You remembered the vent. Oh. That was the garbage. You slowly made your way over to the dumpster, opening it up with hesitance… A glance inside told you exactly what you feared. The corpse of a man, crumpled up and bloody… There was a hole in his chest, but you didn’t look long enough to find out what was done to create it. His eyes were completely gored, and you couldn’t tell from the quick look if they were ripped our or crushed up. You had a few guesses as to what that suit wanted you to do with this body.

The only guess that brought your turning stomach any comfort was that you had to put it in a garbage bag and keep it from being noticeably a literal corpse. You crept back inside, making your way past the office and to the supply room. After grabbing the largest garbage bag you could, you made your way back outside. That’s when you realized you would actually need to touch the dead body to get it into the bag and… Oh no. Between being mutilated by the springlock suit or having to deal with a carcass, you were plenty fine with the carcass; taking some deep breaths you opened up the dumpster again. 

You… Don’t remember much about getting the corpse into the garbage bag. You’re rather certain you just shut down up until the moment you closed the dumpster and walked back to your office. That’s when you looked down at your hands. Somehow, the very sight of your hands was deeply disturbing, but the main focus was the red. You made your way to the bathroom, washing off the liquid before looking to your watch.

Your shift was over in a good ten minutes. As you got back into the office, you saw the suit waiting in the vents.

“See you got it taken care of! Good job, partner.”

You closed the vent. Your shift ended the same way it had the other two days. You went home and got out the ice cream and a clean spoon. There were emotions that needed solving.


	4. Night 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are you bonding with the damn rabbit?

Going back was the dumbest idea of your life. You tried to explain to your manger over the phone come morning that you were uncomfortable with the Springlock suit; he simply told you that you had a contract. At least one week, then you could quit. Finally, you understood why the contract obligation was so short…

Going into work at exactly 12:00 just to not get yelled at was the hard part. For a moment, you stood in the doorway of your office. You managed to get through the front entrance at least, but the overwhelming anxiety of what might happen once you pulled up those cameras and located the Springlock rabbit, or once it located you, it was too much. For a moment, you had the somewhat irrational thought that maybe if you just stood in this doorway, it would never show up. If you never sat down, you would never have to deal with the rotting monster inside the carcass of an animatronic rabbit.

You were sorely mistaken.

A hand landed on your shoulder, or what you hoped was a hand at least. The slow turn of the head you made told you that it was, in fact, the Springlock suit’s hand. It turned you around right as you registered who had a hold on your shoulder, and you spun around unstably to face the thing. It was a lot scarier up close, while you almost tripped over what felt like two left feet. It was hard to make out any expression on it’s face, but the hope was that it was at least happy to see you? You finally managed to stand with even a shred of dignity to your posture, though unstable on knees ready to buckle or bolt depending on what happened.

“So, you came back, huh?”

You lagged a moment, but you managed to sputter out a response. “I can’t quit yet.”

“Of course, contracts and such. Either way, I’m glad to see you again, partner.”

You simply nodded, and silence filled the air around the both of you. Neither of you spoke, though the suit eventually cocked it’s head jerkily to the side. With that you realized the silence had gone on too long, quickly walking your way over to your chair and sitting in it.

“Oh, you aren’t going to need to check the cameras much anymore, partner.”

The way the rabbit said it seemed too proud for your liking, You looked over real quick, but it hadn’t moved much more than to gesture with it’s arms.

“Nobody breaks into a place like Freddy’s Fright, or whatever they’re calling this dump of old relics. You only really had to worry about me.”

It spoke rather matter-of-fact, though it seemed to be trying to force some charm into the vocal box (or chords at this rate) that was at least twenty years rotten, you thought. Why it would try to charm and compel you was a mystery to you. Perhaps it just wanted you to stop looking so anxious. You also would like to stop looking so anxious, but that was rather close to impossible under the circumstances. You didn’t answer yet again.

“You’re real quiet, aren’t you?”

You just shrugged, pulling up the controls so you could hit the vent reset. It had felt like hours, and even though it hadn’t been that long in reality, resetting the vents early hurt nobody. The suit walked around with heavy, deliberate steps that turned more into loud stomps. You hoped that was just because of the weight, and that it wasn’t purposefully lumbering about to intimidate you. It sat down a little ways away from your chair, cross-legged and not seeming to bother you. This lasted for all of a half hour before you assume it got bored, because now it was trying to make conversation.

“I never gave you my name, huh?”

“No, you hadn’t,” you replied blankly.

“What would you want to call me?”

You looked at the suit, not entirely sure how to feel about the question. What would you want to call it? You had several ideas, most of them terrible, and at least half of them offensive on some level… Perhaps you shouldn’t provoke the hundreds of pounds murder machine sitting next to your chair.

“You mean like a nickname?”

“Of course. What else would I mean?”

You weren’t in the mood to retort the snark, nor did you want to prod for it’s actual name. If it didn’t tell you up front, you just assumed it didn’t want to... You looked over at the thing, not wanting to. You were more aware of the smell if you did, and more aware of the many phobias it easily could trigger or cause. You looked it over with a pause before shrugging.

“I guess… First I need to know more about you.”

“What is there to know?”

“A lot, actually.”

The sarcasm slipped out a little too naturally, but for all intents and purposes, it seemed to help. The Spring Bonnie let out it’s usual, hoarse, coughing chortle. Bamboozled as you felt, it was better than him retaliating for the comment.

“I suppose I can tell you some. I died in this suit.”

You didn’t need to ask many questions. The apparent dead man didn’t explain much else. You would extrapolate from there. Though, the pause was getting long again…

“So, how’d you die? Was it the...”

“There’s not many ways I could’ve died without an obvious entry wound from a bullet, or knife, or other shit.”

“So, you got jabbed with a bunch of springlocks.”

“A little more than jabbed, partner.”  
“Right, right. Sorry.”

There was a longer pause, but eventually you had thought of something. You looked back at it. If it wanted a nickname, you supposed you’d go along. Maybe it’d pick up the subtle jab in it, or maybe it’d think of the name innocent enough since it was the one who offered it’s own death as the only information to base the name off of.

“You could say… You got spring trapped?”

It only lightly chuckled, but it at least seemed amused.

“Is that what you’re calling me?”

“Springtrap. If you don’t mind, anyway.”

“Funny. It’s fine for now.”

You reset the vents, noticing the weight of the air, and Springtrap commented on it too.

“Ah, you reset the vents. Good. Could cut the air with a fucking knife it was so thick.”

You didn’t respond with more than a quiet ‘yeah’ before just staring at your camera screens. It was a little longer before you decided to strike up conversation. Perhaps if it liked you, you could get out of any coming death.

“You sounded a lot more excited and all over the place before. Kind of like an actor from an old Mafia movie.”

Your comment got answered in somber chuckles with bittersweet amusement. “Ah, yes. You caught me in a damn fine mood last time. I’ve been told I’m rather enjoyable during those.”

You didn’t think ghosts or corpses (or whatever else Springtrap might be) could be (what to you seemed like being) manic, but you’d take the answer. Now was hardly the time to question Springtrap.

“Anything cause that good mood?”

“A bit of fun with a guard that’s been here a while.”

Your face drained of any color, and that also got a laugh out of Springtrap. He seemed full of laughs, despite not being in such a lively and excitable swing tonight. The pauses that’d been the predominant theme of the night didn’t occur this time, Springtrap cutting in with some comments of his own on how you looked before the quiet had a chance to settle into the air.

“You look like shit.”

You shrunk up some, mostly out of the sheet anxiety that this line was leading into your death. “Now, don’t look so afraid.”

“You look tired or something, that’s all I meant by that.”  
“I have been working nights.”

Springtrap cocked it head enough for you to hear the metal and fabric rubbing against each other with rusty squeaks before you actually looked over to see that all he’d done was don the look of a confused animal.

“You haven’t been sleeping at all during the day?”

“Well, I’ve tried. Humans weren’t made to sleep during the day.”

Springtrap seemed to be considering the statement, head cocking with painful, metalic shrieks just a bit more to the side before straightening back up. Springtrap stood, towering over you per usual. It gestured to the door before it actually answered.

“I would like to offer you a night to yourself!”

It sounded so formal it almost felt like Springtrap was kidding. “I’ll go hang around elsewhere while you get some sleep.”

“I… Thanks.”

You wouldn’t protest. Although you kept having the flash bang thoughts that you’d die any moment, if Springtrap wanted to kill you he would’ve done it already. It departed with loud, unintentional stomps with a wave of it’s stiff hand and a light ‘goodbye.’ You just said ‘goodnight’ in return and slumped in your chair. 

The good news was that the past three days have been so sleepless and hectic that even with overhwelming waves of paranoia and anxiety washing over you, you still managed to fall asleep. It was a dreamless sleep, or that’s how you would remember it when your alarm went off. You jolted upright in your ‘comfy’ office chair, watching the clockwork rhythm of the way the building turned on every morning at 6:00 A.M. play out through bleary, sleepy eyes. You felt as though, at best, you got maybe four or three hours of actual sleep. It was something though.

Your manager walked by per usual, calling out in his usual falsely positive voice, “Good morning, employee! You can go home now!”

And so you did. 

Alive, still, somehow.


	5. Thank you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A piece of art meant as a thank you to all my readers! Not plot relevant, feel free to skip.

Uploading the image hasn't been cooperative for some reason, so if it's still not appearing, you can find it on:

[DA](https://www.deviantart.com/wanderlust-novadust/art/Thank-You-My-Fellow-Sinners-787335207)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started writing chapter five, don't worry, actual story update soon.


	6. Night 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Springtrap can be so helpful and such a hindrance in the same breath.

You got into work a few minutes late. From how you rushed inside, you felt like you might as well have had a piece of toast hanging out of your mouth, cup noodles you called a breakfast tucked under your arm and not even cooked yet. With the interactions yesterday, fear was subsiding to mild anxiety and curiosity, so you had a plan.

You couldn’t enact that plan safely though if you weren’t clocked into work at exactly when you should be, per company policy. You didn’t want to hear it from your manager. However, you got in and saw that you had been clocked in, just at the right time. There wasn’t much thought put to who would’ve done it, as there weren’t exactly many options. From there, you held your cup noodles out and had to make a decision: do you do it?

You decided you would.

You walked around for a while, checking around before finding the kitchen. Although you’d been flicking quickly through the cameras for almost five nights now, you weren’t the best at navigating with such a perspective change. Upon finding the kitchen, you checked your watch. It had been maybe a good five minutes of wandering. 

Stumbling around in the dark kitchen was something else. You bumped into tables and counters, but you weren’t sure what to do. You were told to leave the lights off in the other rooms, but was that for your own safety against Springtrap, because of a specialized night alarm, or what? You wouldn’t test it, but halfway through avoiding a counter that you could somewhat see this time, you were yanked upright by a large figure in the dark. Although you gasped and flinched, you did relax just a bit when you made out the rabbit-like silhouette. 

“What are you doing wandering around in the dark, partner?”

You never would’ve thought when you hit Springtrap over the head with that bat that you’d be holding out the cup noodles to him at some point and asking for help in a voice that may have been just a bit too quiet.

“A microwave? No time to eat, huh? I had to clock you in, you know.”

Springtrap took the cup noodles, and began to walk off somewhere in the kitchen. You followed on his heels, assuming either he could see in the dark, or he had the place memorized. You saw him turn over the cup in his hand for a moment, standing in front of of a blocky shadow that you guessed was a counter top and microwave. You’d already poured water into it and left it barely open before realizing you were almost late—and he seemed to pick up on that. 

“How long you need this heated up for?”

“Two minutes.”

He chucked it in, hitting a few buttons before the light of the microwave filled the tiny corner of kitchen, a human and a ghost in a suit standing together and watching some of the cheapest food you could stomach spin in a microwave. The silence was filled quickly by whirring of a microwave on it’s last legs, but from there, it was filled just a bit more.

“Just eating these?”

“The… cup noodles?”

Springtrap nodded; you shrugged, “It’s cheap. Most of my money right now is being put on rent.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think they paid enough to hold up rent.”

“Oh, I also do small odd jobs with this one, to make sure I can keep a roof over my head.”

It was then the beeping sounded out, and Springtrap opened up the microwave. He seemed to turn to look at you, but your eyes were readjusting to the darkness all over again. You could at least tell he held out the noodles to you, and you took them. 

“You plan on just eating in here, or you going back to your office?”

“My office.”

“Good. Follow me.”

You couldn’t help but wonder at the “good” comment, but that was neither here nor there. You followed, holding your breakfast to your chest as though taking it would kill you, right there, on the spot, and with no second chances. You didn’t know why this thing was helping you. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Walking down hallways, even when you got to your mildly lit office and Springtrap said he’d leave you to eat—even while starting to eat your noodles you couldn’t figure it out.

Why you? Why was he just helping you? Slurping up some noodles, you glanced to the vents. There was some fresh blood, or what you assumed was blood. What other red substance would be drying on claw marks in a metal corridor where bad things happen? So, why you? Why hadn’t he yet killed you?

Leaning back in your chair and trying to finish your breakfast quick, all you could think was that it was because you’d slammed him around a couple of times. Shouldn’t that have pissed him off though? Setting aside the half cup of broth and left over floating carrots and peas, you reset the vents and continued to wander down your spiraling labyrinth of thought…

Eventually, coming back from your rather focused dissociation, you had to reset the vents yet again, but you’d made progress. At least, you assumed it was progress. Perhaps it was because of that moxy. Maybe complimenting you was more than just him being cocky, and he really did appreciate the vigor you showed by attacking him not once, but twice.

You didn’t know how to get confirmation on this, but you didn’t think you really would. Between sarcasm and truth, it was hard to tell Springtrap apart. Though it was as that thought passed that you noticed something in the vents. Getting out of your chair and strolling over, it was apparent that this was not Springtrap. No glint from the exposed metal, no smell of rust or rot, or at least…

No smell of rot that’s as old as Springtrap looks.

Taking a better look inside from a squat did tell you that it wasn’t unusual that you’d smell something vaguely like Springtrap, however. Your stomach still churned, despite the disposal he requested of you before. The eyes were squished in, and blood had appeared to have been leaking out of the nose and mouth for some time. The neck looked as though it’d maybe been crushed, and the hole in the chest and splaying of tiny, broken bits of bone told you that he’d done a number to at least the rib cage and lungs. The worst part came only as the damage sunk in and you looked a little longer.

It was a child. A dead child, stuffed in a vent.

You looked back at the doorway into your office, half expecting Springtrap to be there. You were so sure you’d hear him call to you, say something about getting rid of the body… But he didn’t. He wasn’t even there to begin with.

But you had to do something. What if he was just expecting you to get rid of it? Maybe he was saving it? But, why? Why leave a child’s body where the morning crew would find it? Oh god, was he trying to set you up?

Too many questions, not enough answers. You were already walking through the dark halls to the janitor’s closet before you could finish any new thoughts, stumbling in and grabbing a trash bag and gloves. The gloves were your one salvation from having to touch something like what he left in that vent. It took a little effort to actually dig the child out of the vent, but you got the kid into the bag and shuffled your way out back, tossing the kid into the dumpster. You left the gloves in there, too. You would’ve cleaned the blood out of the vent, but nobody seemed to care that it was there before… So you left it.

You sat in your chair, stomach half threatening in lazy and languid drawls to your brain to cough up all those cup noodles you ate. It wouldn’t happen though, despite the phantom feeling of vomit in your throat. 

Perhaps out of a strange defense mechanism, your brain wandered back to childhood. Weird ways you and other kids would describe things. Didn’t you once call puking “up chucking”? God, you were a weird kid. You went pale a moment later… You didn’t think now was the time to be reflecting on childhood. 

At all.

A glance at your watch told you that you had at least another hour before you’d be able to leave, and finally, the rabbit made his second appearance. He was at your window, and he waved as if greeting you like you’d greet a neighbor after leaving the house. Calm, jovial, and not in any way like the kind of person you’d expect to kill a child and leave them in a vent. You waved back limply before watching him make his way to the doorway and into your office, sitting by you like the night before.

“You’re looking beat, partner.”

You only hummed in response, prompting Springtrap to continue. “Something eating you up?”

His sense of humor was at times a little too malicious feeling for your own taste. 

“Found the body.”

“Oh, did you? Was hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with it until later.”

“Later?”

“Wanted to disfigure it a little more, just in case it got found. That way it couldn’t be recognized.”

The fact that he had the foresight to even think of that (and from what you saw, begin to do so) left you really feeling ready to “up chuck” all over again; more valid threats coming from your insides. Springtrap seemed to notice…

“Are you alright?”

Springtrap stood up as it finally happened. The delayed reaction to two corpses in your personal office, the smell of rot that constantly followed Springtrap, the look to your right at the maggots and peeks of flesh… You finally puked into your lap. 

From there you were breathing too heavily to know exactly what was going on. The world was spinning too much for you to get a good grasp on things. Your heart felt like a jack hammer to the rib cage, and your head could feel it too. The world was falling from beneath you, but your ass still sat in that seat, pants soaking with bodily fluids and half digested, cheap food. Your chest felt like ice as you disconnected from what was going on. Before you knew it you’d puked a second time, and in some blur of time between the second heave of vomit and the world going black, you felt someone hoist you out of the seat.

Even in that foggy of a mindset, you figured it was probably just Springtrap.

All you could hope in your last conscious moments was that you lived.


	7. Night 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A full stomach was absolutely worth the panic.

You woke to the sickening feeling of dry vomit on your shirt and pants. You never felt more disgusting, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as it became very apparent you were laying in a pile of soft something… What that thing was you couldn’t parse out in the pitch black, but getting a better feel of part of this pile that bulged up to your left, you discerned it seemed to be clothes? A shirt on top, specifically. 

You were a bit wobbly on your feet as you rose from the pile, but you didn’t fall over. When the smell hit from the puke on your shirt, you felt like you could go for round two, but you managed in this misery. A few steps and some outstretched hands later, you felt the wall. Feeling along that, you found a light switch. You had to shield your eyes at first. Once you’d adjusted to the light, you looked back at that pile to see it was just some pile of old uniforms. Why you’d been tossed onto a pile of old uniforms was beyond you, but looking up from that had the same familiar shelves and cleaning supplies as normal…

You were in the janitor’s closet.

You opened the door just a crack, peering out to see the lights all off. A look at your watch said it was just past one in the morning. At least that meant you could roam mostly safely… You turned the light off, previous fear of what turning lights on after hours creeping up your spine before you closed the door and tried to make your way to your office. The last thing you could remember from yesterday was vomiting all over yourself from the smell of rotting…

You got to your desk, finding that the vents had been recently reset and there was a letter on your desk. You ripped it open haphazardly before pulling out the neatly folded paper within. It was a company notice, asking if you’d left early from your job or not. If you had, this was a warning. If you hadn’t, and were merely hiding under your desk from an incoming enemy, report this to your manager in the morning. You dropped the letter onto your desk, wondering if you could begin to save your ass by saying you were under the desk.

You sat in the chair, suspecting that actually leaving work early was the worst idea you could have at the time. You pulled up the cameras, half curious as to where your springlocked ‘friend’ had gone. Springtrap appeared to be heading this way, actually. Right down the halls. Your instant reaction was to quickly play one of the sound clips you were so quick to use at the start of all of this; that shit eating laugh sounding off with a sense of nostalgia for when this job was life-threatening, but simplistic at the same time.

The laughter didn’t detour Springtrap at all. He paused, looking the direction it echoed from, but he didn’t do much more than shake in a way that suggested some laughter of his own. You hopelessly watched as Springtrap approached your office, and quickly, arrived at your office window. He still had all the same features about him. Decay and bugs that both made you equally squeamish. You’d be lying if you tried to say that you weren’t getting used to the sight, however.

The smell was a different story, you quickly realized. Springtrap finally entered the room, not sitting next to you like before. You couldn’t make much out of his face, even squinting a little in frustration as your eyes traced over anything that might clue you into why he was just staring at you. After what felt like two whole eternities, Springtrap broke the silence.

“So, you’re alright then, partner?”

The way he phrased it made you wonder if you didn’t remember an exchange of words up to this point. Searching your own head, you certainly were sure that this was the first thing he’d said to you since you woke up. Why he was concerned was something you didn’t know if you wanted details on.

“I feel better, at least.”

Your honest answer seemed to earn you some relief, if his change in tone was anything to go off of. “Good… You looked sick as all living hell before.”

He continued, “It’s good to see you back up on your feet. If only I had something more helpful, like chicken noodle soup.”

“Ah, I would go for any food right now… I could eat a whole horse with how I feel,” you said with an awkward chuckle. Perhaps a casual atmosphere would make it less obvious you were trying to erase your sense of smell with the power of only your mind.

Springtrap hummed in response, and the way he did it said only one thing without any actual words. ‘I have an idea.’  
You weren’t about to jump up and ask where he was going as he stomped off, but you watched with questioningly wide eyes and high brows. What the hell was he about to do? You reset the vents just so you wouldn’t forget, pulling out the camera controls and trying to follow him. Every now and then along his path the cameras would cover over in static; you were remembering all the small annoyances of trying to keep track of him from before you two formed such a strange ‘partnership.’ After a while, it was only static. Had he gone into the vents? Had this become a plot for your death?

You checked the vent cameras, but nothing. Just in case, you closed the vents. You found yourself curled up in your office chair, staring down the sealed vent and hoping for a signal it was safe. That’s when you heard a soft ‘bonk’ sound… You opened the vent, skittering over to the vent entrance and crouching to peer inside. There was no body this time, no new blood, absolutely void of any fresh viscera or gore. That’s when you spotted the two bright lights, pinpoints of white that felt as though they were peering into your soul. You foolishly decided to face possibly mortal danger, sticking your head further inside before making out a pale face…

From the way the light bounced off of it, it looked just like the glazed clay projects you made in middle school. It was painted somewhat, you could tell, a big black mouth that was probably supposed to look like a giant, open smile. It reminded you more of an all consuming void instead. Below hollow sockets where fake eyes might’ve gone, it was painted with wide, purple streaks. You couldn’t see what attached to this head exactly, or what was creating the light in eyeless sockets, but you didn’t have long to care. It’s lunged at you, screeching like it was angry, or in pain; perhaps it was both angry and in pain.

You fell back with the weight of it, screaming some yourself before registering that there was nothing there. You got up into a sitting position on your knees, looking around to see the lights leaving you. The darkness was closing in, and more dots of light were focusing in on you slowly. Soon enough, you’d stood up, a frail figure standing in an ever closing circle of safety and sight, with whatever those things were all staring at you with their gaping mouths and eyeless eyes!

“Partner?”

The slowly spoken, concerned word ripped you from whatever was going on. Suddenly, you were just standing in your office, shaking and sweating while staring at a wall.

“Already freaking out on me, huh?”

Springtrap set down a plate, and the sound drew your attention. The meat looked a bit stringy… You don’t know where he could’ve gotten it. It was still raw, from what you could tell.

“Springtrap, raw meat isn’t exactly healthy...”

“Only if it isn’t cooked at all. Plenty of countries eat raw meat, Partner. You just boil it a bit in water first. It kills bacteria, making it safe to eat. Some people prefer the taste.”

You sat down as he spoke, a little shocked at how knowledgeable he was. Springtrap was smarter than you’d been giving him credit for, and he’d been proving that time and time again. From disfiguring his victim’s faces, to this random bit of a survival fact…

“Thanks.”

You noticed the fork he’d left on the side of the plate. Plastic. So was the knife. It was the thought that counted, you supposed. You got to eating it, and it was rather sweet. Maybe comparable to beef or pork, but you couldn’t nail down what it was specifically. 

“Where’d you get this anyway?”

“The freezer.”

“What is it?”

You took another bite before looking over. You couldn’t make out an expression, but the building silence was getting to you. As you narrowed down the things they might have in a (albeit, quite faithful and terrifying) you realized very quickly that he probably didn’t grab pork or beef. It probably wasn’t chicken or turkey, either… No way in hell you’d be eating something as exotic as frog or crocodile.

You felt sick all over again, but you were starving. This had been the best food you’d tasted in a while; it was ten times better than all the cheap ramen flavors you were eating! 

“If you’re still hungry, I can bring more after you’re done with that.”

It was sickening, but you ate. It was disgusting on some moral level, but you ate. When you cleaned your plate, you asked for more. Until five rolled around, you waited then dined, waited then dined, waited then dined… Until five rolled around, you ate like a king. You felt like you’d never be hungry again.

By the time your manger came at six, the lights coming on and the plate of human long gone, you had made peace with your actions. A full stomach felt too nice to keep worrying about what was filling it.

“Morning, employee!”

“Morning, sir.”

“You’re free to go, employee. Have a nice day!”

“You too, sir!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad to see everyone enjoying this! Sorry this chapter took so long. Been writing other things on the sidelines and working on OCs. I don't know how popular Sona/OC insert stories are, but I'm working on a few! Also, every now and then working on trying to put together chapter 2 of My Sister and I. Hope you enjoy this chapter!


	8. Week 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consequences exist, employee.

You told yourself you were quitting early in the week. You came through the doors, glad that you had an out, at least. After the first week, you could back out and they’d find some other night guard. You sat at your desk, comforted by this easy back door if needed, but… You weren’t planning on using it soon. 

“Why hello there, partner!”

You looked the direction of the voice, seeing Spring Trap coming through your little office doorway. This was why you were staying. Spring Trap was many things… Smart, dangerous, and helpful. You just had to help him some too.

“Hello, Springtrap.”

As of your second week, things had gotten more casual. Now it was your third week; a nice, Tuesday evening in the dead of June with your probably haunted animatronic friend. The word ‘probably’ only hung in the air above him because you were also still somewhat sure you didn’t believe in ghosts. 

“What’ve you got in store for me tonight, Springtrap?”

Springtrap chuckled just a bit while moving in his usual rickety fashion, crossing his arms and seeming to try and lower his shoulders into some position that looked a little more casual, though it didn’t come out quite right. You were used to his attempts at seeming non-threatening not working out quire right. You appreciated the sentiment he hoped to get across nonetheless.

“Well, we’ve got food in the freezer… Some of it’s getting a little rotten smelling though… Might want to take it out back,” he said, capping off the speech with a hacking laugh.

You understood at once, reaching under your desk for the gloves you stowed away in there. A fresh pair on each hand to keep fingerprints from doing you in! Once you had them on, you stood up.

“Should get rid of it then, yeah? Could you boil some of the meat while I work on that?”

Springtrap put off that same aura, that same implication in the ear of an ear-to-ear grin before answering you.

“I’ve got you real fond of boiled meat, huh? Like the feel of raw meat?”

You gladly followed him as he began his heavy steps off to the kitchen. He was easy to follow, thank god.

“It tastes pretty good, actually! Never imagined nearly raw meat would be so delicious.”

“I’m glad… Not like I know how to cook it any other way!”

You two got a good laugh out of that, and upon getting to the kitchen, you looked to the freezer. It was a smaller kitchen than would be in a real Fazbear’s establishment, but it held plenty. Walking around, you found the trash bags you’d hidden in there during the second week. Once you got it out, Springtrap had the weighty freezer door open. It was always impressive, the feats he managed to pull off from inside that ramshackle machine.

“Which one’s rotting,” you asked as you came to peer into it with him.

Springtrap dragged the rotting one forward a bit, and it certainly had the smell you’d guess a rotting body had. With a nod, you began working the small corpse into the trash bag. It was missing pieces and organs that would all be very important to a lively, functioning child; but this was no functioning child you piled into a closed up garbage bag. Springtrap gave you a pat on the back a little harder than he probably intended, arm delaying and stopping just short of when he seemed to want it to. After, you scurried off, navigating the dark hallways yourself. You’d gotten better at it, though you couldn’t help but wonder if Springtrap could see in the dark! Thankfully, you were getting it down. Soon enough, you were out back and tossing the trash bag into the dumpster, purposefully among all the other, rotten smelling food junk.

You got back inside, just deciding to wait in your office. Springtrap would know where to find you. In the coming ten or twenty minutes, he did know where to find you too. A nice bowl carried in one hand, full of small cuts of food. 

“Thanks, Springtrap.”

He held it out, and you gladly took the bowl. Leaning back nice and casual in your office chair, you got to eating while Springtrap spoke.

“Got the body taken care of, Partner?”

You nodded, and that got the approval. 

“Good! Glad I can rely on you, Partner. How’s that food taste?”

“Better than the shit I was living on before.”

“Good… You think they’re onto us, Partner?”

‘Onto us?’ You cocked a brow before looking into the bowl. Cleaned off, boiled, delicious meat taken off the not so fresh, but preserved corpse of a human child.

“They haven’t said anything to me at least. Should I look out for it?”

“Well, yeah! Don’t want you getting locked up, right? Be real lonely over here on my own in some dinky establishment like this.”

Such a personal sentiment. He’d been throwing more and more of those your way over time. You were almost too used to it to even bat an eye or question it’s sincerity.

“It wouldn’t be that fun, would it?”

You popped another small cut of the meat into your mouth, chewing it up with a pleased hum while Springtrap kept on.

“No, it wouldn’t. Maybe check out the newspapers sometime, Partner. We have to be sure they aren’t going to investigate you specifically.”

“That reminds me, Springtrap. Why do you do this?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to enjoy the spoils.”

“Fine by me.”

Springtrap got up, mentioning some rubbish about wanting to go out and check out other places to do the abducting from. It was harder to get kids, he mentioned. Haunted attractions usually attract, at best, the ten to twelve range. (Around now, you hit the vent reset, not wanting to suffocate in the middle of conversation.) He was used to toddlers, he went on, and you felt the slight churn of a sick feeling before you ate a bit more, and your moral leftovers were beaten into submission by the bat of your full stomach. You were used to this, but it was getting easier.

He kept rambling right up until he realized he was a little too far away to be heard well, where he called out loudly for you to have a good night. You waved out the window with a jovial grin as he coughed and got along. A glance at your watch said 4:08 AM, which just meant another two hours. You leaned back, chucking the bowl under your desk where nobody looked. 

It was a smooth two hours until it hit 6:00 AM. The clockwork order of how the building turned on came through, and your manager came in with a worried look. You were a little caught off guard by that, but standing up to get out your manager caught you.

“Employee! Could you come with me, please?”

You nodded, not totally sure where this was going, but… You were sure it’d be fine. You nodded and followed right along to his office. It was a nice enough office. Rather undecorated, without paintings or many things other than a plant on a cheap looking desk that looked like it was polished to a point where the table looked cheaper than it would’ve otherwise. The gloss easily highlighted how rickety it was underneath, you thought, sitting at the side in front of the desk while your manager hurried himself into the seat behind.

“Employee… Have you heard anything from your co-workers about disappearances?”

“No sir, I haven’t. Also, I have a name. It’s—“

“I guess you don’t talk to them much. You’re a real busy guy, huh Employee?”

“I am…”

You suddenly realized this shit had actual consequences. The world wouldn’t cut you slack just because the murderer was a 99% probably haunted animatronic.

“Well, if you hear anything, please, report it back to me.”

“Of course.”

“Have a good day, employee.”

“You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this was a bit shorter. Tried to keep it entertaining though!


	9. Week 3, day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, in a bathroom, it all hits you like a ton of bricks.

Consequences were suddenly thrust back into your full view the rest of your day (or better put, the beginning of your evening, as your night-shift schedule had made you practically nocturnal.) You got into work at the usual clockwork time and got to your office, checking all the usual things. The cameras said Springtrap was on his way, which was fine enough. You had questions, he’d hopefully have answers. You didn’t know how you thought this would all be consequence free child murder, but it was a nice fantasy!

It was as the vents had finished resetting that Springtrap came to the doorless opening of the office, knocking on the air as though there were something there that could’ve stopped him.

“Knock knock, partner!”

Springtrap “let himself in” to loudly wander over to you. He stood next to you, not attempting the awkward sitting position he often had a little difficulty getting out of. You nodded your head without actually looking away from the window at first, eye caught by a rusty and dirty guitar down the hall you were fairly certain wasn’t there when you first sat down.

“Something the matter, partner?”

“No, no. Just distracted.”

You looked over at him, before pointing at the guitar up on the wall and trying to ask him.

“You see that?”

Springtrap looked and answered back in confusion, “The wall?”

“Is there anything on the wall?”

Springtrap seemed to lean forward a bit, trying to squint and force his far too old eyes to cooperate with him. It was a sizeable pause, you slowly lowering your trembling hand to the desk and allowing it to relax from it’s firm pointing position onto the top of the surface. It all felt too deliberate, however. It felt as though your hand would’ve just stayed like that had you not consciously walked yourself through the steps of relaxing.

“I don’t see much more than children’s drawings and old paint trying to fly off the walls.”

Springtrap looked over at you, cocking his head a bit to the side. You met his gaze before looking back down the hall. Now it was more than a guitar. It was an animatronic, very similar to the concerned rabbit standing next to you. You heard him say your name, but you didn’t acknowledge him. You were taking in the purple rabbit that now held that guitar at the end of the hall. 

Your first thought was panic about how easily that guitar could crack your skull open. Your second thought was fleeting, and centered entirely on the fact that the rabbit hadn’t been there before. For a moment, you wished the new day guard hadn’t died, because he could’ve easily told you what animatronic had shown up. 

This place just churned out dead guards, huh?

“Partner!”

You were snapped out of your dissociative, rapid fire train of thought, looking back at Springtrap. You could discern worry from his posture, at least… He tried to make the animatronic smile, though you couldn’t tell if the fact it was lopsided was intentional or not based on tone of voice alone.

“You alright, Partner? Sleeping enough, eating enough? Don’t tell me it’s all getting to you this late in!”

“No, I’m sure I’m fine! Maybe just hungry or something.”

There was a pause, but it didn’t last too long. Springtrap let out a hearty chuckle before starting for the door.

“’Course! Hunger does shit to a person’s mind, you know? Gotta get you all nice and fixed up… Get some food in you!”

“Hah, yeah!”

Springtrap left with that, and you looked back out the window. The rabbit was closer. You would swear though, from how it was positioned, it hardly looked like it would’ve moved. Not a single fiber was out of place from it’s prior pose, and that was the terrifying part. It was as though it’d just appeared in the new spot, and the view it was giving you? Far from pleasant. You’d swear it was as rotten as Springtrap. The only difference you’d note is exchanging maggots for an over abundance of mold that turned what you were sure was once a very nice shade of purple into a varied mix of dead lavender, moldy green, and gray that never lived to begin with. 

You almost wanted to call out to Springtrap, but he wasn’t acknowledging the rabbit on his way out. In fact, Springtrap walked right past what you were sure by now was one of the old Bonnie suits. It was when he left (and you were quite sure he wouldn’t hear anything) that you got up and grabbed something from under your desk. It was a pipe, sturdy and given to you by Springtrap in the freak accident event of someone actually breaking into this damn place. You were rather convinced by him before that this was unlikely, but you took the pipe regardless. 

Now, the pipe seemed at least mostly useful.

You came right up to the moldy robot, reaching out to tap it with the pipe. In the blink that happened before the pipe could make contact with it’s body, it had vanished. You stumbled back just a bit, shocked by the disappearance, but in the next set of rapid blinks you were slammed into the glass of your office’s rather large window. It was immediately afterward the animatronic disappeared again. It left you sliding down the wall into a sitting position, pipe soon clattering to the ground beside you. 

Nothing felt broken. That was the only good news you could think of. Your world was spinning just a bit, but it was all coherent enough to tell you that at best: you had gotten a minor concussion and your back would feel like shit for a while. Springtrap was already on his way back though. Fuck.

“Partner?”

As he rounded the corner, he saw you in a heap in front of the office window. He didn’t seem to bat much of an eye at the mess you were, though he didn’t leave either. It was a dense, uncomfortable few seconds of silence before he decided to say anything to you.

“You alright, Partner? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Springtrap didn’t seem to know how to approach the fact that you went from in your seat to against the wall just below your office window, and that was fair. You wouldn’t have known how to approach the situation either, if you’re being completely honest with yourself.

“Peachy.”

He picked up some hostility in your tone, but he seemed to just brush it off. Not like it was directed at him, anyway. Springtrap laboriously sighed before crossing his arms and nodding back over his shoulder.

“Listen, Partner. Your next meal? Well, it’s hard to come by kids when they’ve been disappearing so much around the building.”

“Yeah, sounds like police would make that rough.”

“They aren’t going to believe it’s an animatronic haunted by a dead man killing them. So, instead of paranormal inspectors, we have police around here in the working hours.”

This was technically working hours for you, but you nodded along and tried to understand where this was going.

“I had to grab ‘em quick. They aren’t dead yet though.”

Oh. So that’s where this was going.

You’d slowly stood up at this point, letting Springtrap prattle on further. He was getting more and more rusty and broken down, he said. Squeaks too much, too hard to move; Springtrap threw a million things your way and the whole while you didn’t need to prepare. When he finally stopped beating around the bush and creating excuses, he led you to the kitchen. 

You could hear it. The heavy breathing in the somewhat operational freezer. It wasn’t always as cold as one would hope. It kept meat fresh, sure, but sometimes it didn’t work so well. You didn’t know if you should feel glad he didn’t freeze to death, just mildly frostbitten and not close enough to death to be good for morning, no matter when that came. That’s how Springtrap phrased this all at least. The whimpers from behind the door… You thought they could be around maybe nine? 

When you opened the door, you found out they were younger, actually. From the crooked and twisted way their ankles looked, you assumed that was how Springtrap was keeping them in place. Their shoulders also seemed to have been dislocated… The man had no empathy for whatever didn’t serve him. Despite how buddy-buddy you two had been, you made a note of that.

The pipe was still in your hands, and Springtrap was glad for that. He put a hand on your shoulder, gesturing with the free one to the panicking and heavily dazed six or seven year old who was trying to cry despite how frozen they seemed.

“Can’t eat them alive, can you?”

You positioned yourself just in the opening. Raising the pipe above your head; you had made peace with the act you were going to commit when Springtrap was rambling. You’d made peace with what you were eating already. Not a damn thing would stop you. 

Before you swung, you answered him.

“I know some cultures that would, but I’m not fucking crazy.”

The pipe came crashing down, and the child tried to move their head a bit too late. The crack of skull, the squish of brain matter and blood… For a moment, all you could think of was the fact that you were glad you never ate the head. This wasn’t enough though. A broken skull didn’t mean death was certain. It had to be obliterated for you to be 100% sure.

A second swing. There was more crunch and wet smushed sounds than initially. You gave it a few more though, things beginning to remind you of people crushing grapes with their feet in how it all felt and sounded… A child’s head could be like a bloody grape, you supposed. It was at the sixth, and honestly gratuitous swing, that Springtrap put a hand on your shoulder again. 

You looked at him, slowly lowering the pipe to your side. He removed his hand before trying to give you a big, proud seeming grin. The pride was reinforced in his tone.

“Well! Look at that… A real bang-up job, partner. I’ll get to taking what I can and boiling it for you.”

You thanked him. You left the kitchen. You were in the bathroom, rinsing blood off the pipe and trying to remember what to use to remove blood from under a black light when you looked up in the mirror. The running water was the perfect white noise to fuel a quick, snap reaction chain of thoughts. The pipe in your hands was easy to fiddle with. 

You had just murdered a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably not the romance you guys wanted during Pride, but happy Pride anyway!


End file.
